


Naughty Salmon Ladder

by whoseeswhatsyetunseen



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Accidentally High, Awkward Sexual Situations, Dramedy, F/M, Gen, Nudity, Sexual Content, drugged, olicity - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-17
Updated: 2014-03-02
Packaged: 2018-01-12 21:10:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1200736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whoseeswhatsyetunseen/pseuds/whoseeswhatsyetunseen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Basically, this is just an excuse to have a naked Oliver doing the salmon ladder; Oliver temporarily loses his inhibitions, Felicity and Diggle have to deal with it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. the one where the dart makes contact

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know what got into me, but I couldn't stop myself. It was supposed to just be smut, but somehow a tiny bit of a story joined in the fun. Not every chapter has yummy parts, but it does happen eventually. Enjoy!

Felicity hated this part of a mission: the silent except for grunts, thuds, whacks, moans, and the quick sthwits vs. loud gunshots. She was, usually, safe and sound in the basement of Verdant, trying to watch and erase any security feeds of the Arrow and Diggle and listening/advising over their comms.

Was that grunt of pain Oliver? Diggle? Was it from causing another’s pain or receiving it?! The urge to demand answers while knowing they were in the middle of a fight…it was so fracking frustrating!

But she was able to contain herself, like—95%?—of the time because her boys—yeah, whatever, HERS—would always make contact as soon as they could. So she sat, and mindlessly scrubbed servers of any images too detailed for her comfort, and held her breath, and prayed to all gods, and maybe some unknown life forms, too, just to be safe, and second guessed her choice to continue being part of this whole…thing.

“I’m clear,” panted Diggle suddenly. Felicity gulped a breath. “Oliver?”

“Yeah, done, meet ya at the rendezvous.”

Felicity rolled her eyes. She kept trying to get them to use codenames; even her kickass encryptions could supposedly be hacked and their nights listened in on. But they never did.

She heard them breathing as they moved through the streets. They used to sign off once they were headed in, but after a few incidents that left one or the other without backup, she had insisted comms stay on until they got to the arrowcave.

“You ok, man?” she heard Dig ask through both his and Oliver’s comms; so they had met up, good.

“Uhhhgg, yeah…” Oliver groaned.

“Are you sure about that?”

“Yes, it’s just, weird.” She heard the car doors open and close.

“Weird how, Oliver?” she demanded.

“I got this sharp pinch in my shoulder about a block away from the takedown, like I had pinched a nerve or something…”

She didn’t like the sound of that. Oliver Queen knew his body better than she knew computers and if he was unsure why something was hurting, that scared her. She tuned out as Diggle and Oliver discussed it. She hadn’t deleted a few security feeds yet; she’d check them just to see if anything would explain his weird pinch.

It took almost the full fifteen minutes of the guys’ return trip before she found it. A grainy figure in the shadows above the Arrow, some movement, and if she slowed it down, what almost could be a dart or something shooting into Oliver’s shoulder and then falling to the street. It hadn’t slowed the Arrow in the slightest. Yup. Weird.

Diggle and Oliver came down the stairs and began to remove their gear. Felicity approached Oliver. “So, how do you feel? Tired, or anything?” she really tried to not fidget her fingers. She finally just clenched them together at her waist.

Oliver raised an eyebrow, tossing his hood on a table. “Fine. Shoulder doesn’t even feel weird now.” He peeled off his t-shirt (he always got sweaty, but never smelled, what was that about?) and turned to say something to Diggle across the room. “You--.”

“So nothing? Really?” she prodded.

Oliver closed his mouth and turned to face her completely, tipping his head just slightly and narrowing his eyes. He glanced down at her tense hands and back to her face. “Why?” he asked in low voice.  Diggle walked back toward them and looked at her.

“Well, you were right, that is weird, you feeling pain—I mean a physical pain, that you don’t know the reason for—so I went back and looked at some footage from you leaving that area, and it wasn’t the best quality, because you know, it is just the docks, not like it’s the Financial or Gem District or anything--.”

“Felicity.”

“Yeah, right. So, this,” and she played the slowed down scene.  “See? There? You were shot with a dart or something!”

Diggle grabbed up the Arrow’s suit and examined the shoulder. “Shit, she’s right, Oliver. Got a small puncture here.”

“What?!” He pointed to the screen. “That little thing got through my gear?”

Felicity ran her hands over his bare shoulder (ignoring both his shiver and her own as their skin touched, damnit,) and let out a gasp. Oliver tried to turn and see for himself, which would have been comical under other circumstances. Diggle stepped to them and looked too.

“Yeah, man, it got through. There is a very small prick mark in your shoulder muscle. If you aren’t feeling anything now, it might be time delayed. Felicity, take a sample of his blood, I’ll--.”

“My herbs.” Diggle nodded and went to grab them from the box.

“How do you know they will help this time?” she asked as she reluctantly got out what she needed; she hated doing the medical stuff.

He sat on the table and clenched his arm for her. “I don’t. But they have in the past and I would be very surprised if they made it worse.”

Felicity nodded, drew her sample, and tried to turn away before he saw her face. She hated that he, and Diggle, could get hurt, DID get hurt, while trying to make their city a better place. It wasn’t fair. One would think she would be accustomed to it all, but she wasn’t a soldier, she hadn’t survived hell for five years, she was just an IT girl for crying out loud!

“Hey,” his voice was soft, warm on the top of her bent head. He gently ran his hand down her arm to hold her elbow, turning her to face him. “We don’t even know if there is anything to worry about, so don’t.”

She huffed and turned her face up toward his. “Right. Because everything is always peachy keen for us.” He just held her arm and continued to look into her eyes. She sighed. “Sorry. Long day.” She flashed a somewhat decent smile at him and moved out of his grasp. She gathered her things, and the sample, and moved toward the stairs. “I’ll drop this off with our friendly-ish local constable. See you guys tomorrow.”

Oliver clenched and unclenched his jaw. He hated seeing her upset. She was just too sweet for what they did, no matter how strong and amazing she was just about every second of the day. But he didn’t stop her from leaving.

“You want to hang out here, see if anything happens, or head home? I’ll be coming into the manor tonight, too, fyi.” Oliver smiled at Diggle’s no-room-for-argument tone.

“Home.” He chugged his island herbs and pulled on a clean shirt. He glanced down when Diggle pointedly looked at his leather pants. “Right. No Arrow wardrobe in the manor. Give me a sec.”

“What would you do without us, Mr. Queen?” he teased his friend. Diggle himself, having avoided any hand to hand stuff that night, simply rechecked his sidearm and adjusted his coat.


	2. the one where they wait and see

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basically an excuse to have a naked Oliver doing the salmon ladder; Oliver temporarily loses his inhibitions, Felicity and Diggle have to deal with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know what got into me, but I couldn't stop myself. It was supposed to just be smut, but somehow a tiny bit of a story joined in the fun. Not every chapter has yummy parts, but it does happen eventually.

Felicity was at work early Friday morning. She assumed that no news was good news regarding Oliver, but her restless night had ended early anyway, so she just decided to worry AND get some work done before Queen Consolidated became crazy busy. She was also doing searches for time delayed drugs and poisons—such a cheery way to begin one’s day.

Mr. Queen and bodyguard arrived only a few minutes late, instead of the typical 30. She followed them into his office, closing the door so at least sound would be private. Stupid glass walls.

“How are you?” she blurted out before he sat behind his desk. “Anything odd? Painful? Are you overly thirsty or not at all?” She bit her lip before continuing. “What about your heart beat? Irregular? Have you vomited? Is there discoloration at the injection site?” she rushed behind the desk, grabbed his collar and tried to yank it down enough to see the area.

“Ahh, Felicity, my tie!” he pulled her hands away by her wrists. “Jeeze, can I answer a question before you ask another?”

Diggle chuckled. “I’m going for coffee. You guys want anything?”

“No, he shouldn’t have caffeine, it could cause--.”

“No, thank you, Dig. I think a caffeine-free environment will be fine currently…” Oliver loudly spoke over her. He squeezed her hands. “Are YOU ok?”

“What? Me?” She pulled her hands away and waved them randomly. “Oh yeah, why? Do I look like something is wrong?”

Oliver smiled softly and shook his head. “No, of course not. You look,” he smile-sighed, “You look good, Felicity.”

That gave her pause.  What the hell? Good? How did he make that seem like such a sexy compliment?! And why was he looking at her like that?

“Like what?”

“Eeep! Uhh…nothing. Nevermind.” She blushed and turned to leave his office. “Meeting in 15. Accounting.”

“Yeah yeah yeah,” she heard him mumble and pick up the notes she had put on his desk yesterday.

 

*** ***

 

Felicity and Diggle kept a close watch on their CEO the entire day but the mysterious dart showed no signs of having compromised him. The blood tests, sent through quickly by Officer Lance (cashing in a favor, he had to add), were inconclusive. If there was something in his blood, it was nothing their tests knew to look for.

That’s just great.

So her worry continued. Though, to be fair, that was pretty much the default setting these days, so, “Just stop being a whiner, Smoak.”

“Are you talking to yourself again?”

“Shi---Oliver!” She clutched at her heart. “Don’t. Do. That! God.”

He smirked. “Sorry.”

“Are not,” she grumbled and he grinned. “What can I do for you, Mr. Queen?”

He gave a short chuckle. “Nothing, Ms. Smoak. I was on my way out and wanted to remind you that the work day ended 10 minutes ago.”

“Huh?” He tapped her phone by her elbow so the time displayed. “Oh. Wow. Ok. Thanks.”

“See you.” It was sort of their way of saying meet you in the club’s basement later.  It was part of their super secret code.  Right.

“Oh, actually,” she stood up. “I have a few errands to run. Been putting them off, now my drycleaner is threatening to sell all my clothes; and those library books; I owe more in fines than they are even worth. Maybe I should just keep them and pay for new ones? It would be cheaper, I think.” He just stood watching her wave her hands around and waited. “So, I’ll be a couple hours late, is what I’m saying.”  She stopped and took a breath.

He nodded, holding back an even bigger grin. “Ok.” He walked toward the elevators. She watched him, biting her lip. He had his suit coat thrown over his shoulder and his sleeves rolled to just above his elbows. And he was doing that really annoying, really sexy, saunter of his. She wasn’t sure if it was a pre- or post-island swagger, or if he even knew he was doing it, but damnit, it just wasn’t fair. She spent half her time worried into heart palpitations for his safety and the other half trying to remember NOT to stare at his abs, and, other, places. Yeah.  Like his ass as it walked away.

She got ready to leave, pushing the Worry Of The Day regarding a little dart to background operations; instead, she seemed stuck on imagining how those arms would feel around her. She waited until she saw his elevator depart before she went to push the call button herself. “I do _not_ need an elevator ride with him right now.”

Ignoring all her emotions and ignoring her brain trying to analyze all those emotions, she set a stern face and got on with her errands. Couldn’t leave the boys alone too long with all her equipment down there, who knows what they could get their hands into in two hours—oh, why did her brain always phrase stuff so horribly?!


	3. The one where Diggle is snoring & Oliver strips

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> getting to the good stuff...

When Felicity finally punched in her code and crept in the side entrance for the arrowcave, she expected either two very bored men or a note saying what good they were out doing and where.  She did not expect to see Diggle snoring on the small couch, his limbs awkwardly sprawled, and no sign of one Oliver Queen.

Huh.  Just weird, or not good?

She glanced around the familiar space but nothing seemed out of place.  Just the giant drooling on the sofa that she had taken a week to pick out.

“Hey,” she gingerly poked his nearest shoulder.  She knew better than to be too close when waking certain people.  “Hey, John!” 

Nothing.  She slapped his shoulder and sprang back.

Again, just more snoring.

“John Diggle!” she called loudly.  Then she grabbed a glass of water from the bathroom and poured it on his face.  He gasped, opened his eyes, and turned over.

She was getting a bad feeling.  No way was this a normal sleep.  But how?  Why?  Who?  What?  “Ok, Smoak, stop just listing unhelpful words.”

She spent a few minutes trying to use the comms and cell phone, even the GPS in the Arrow’s boot.  But no comms were active, and all tracking data said Oliver was at this address.  She checked the logs, saw entry by Oliver (with Diggle, she assumed) and then herself but no breaches to suggest someone had gotten inside the cave.

No sticky notes from the missing man.  She finally watched the camera footage she always recorded when there was movement near the access doors, and she saw Oliver leaving the basement for the club. 

He was grinning.

He was staggering slightly.

He basically looked high.

Eyes huge now, Felicity rushed up the stairs and into the club proper.  Pounding beats, laughing, and flashing lights assaulted her as soon as she stepped from the back hall and onto the club’s main floor.  She almost never saw the place in full swing, so it took her an embarrassing few moments of awkward standing before she could focus.

He wasn’t on the dance floor or the VIP area…oh, crap.  He was at the bar…and looked about ready to be on top of the bar.  He was laughing at the group of flirting women and awed men, asking if they really did want a show.

“Shit, Oliver!” Felicity choked quietly as she began to push her way toward him.  Body after body either banged into her or tried to grope her.  She suddenly longed for a boring business gala.

Finally she reached the bar and waved over the head bartender.  Oliver was sitting on the bar, slowly unbuttoning his dress shirt.

“What.  The fuck.  Is going on, here, Stuart?”  She tried to look very Executive Assistant-ly.

Stuart glanced at his boss.  “Yeah, I was wondering that, too.  Other than an occasional shot, Mr. Queen never drinks here, at least during hours.”

“How much has he had?” she demanded.

“Yeah…a beer.”  He cringed and waited for her reaction.

“Just one, a beer?!”  And then, CLICK!  Her brain decided to join the party and she realized the damn dart had been much delayed indeed.  “Just, help me get him away from the groupies and into the back hall, please.”  Her faux club office was right next to the arrowcave-club door.  First time it would be used as such, it would seem.

Stuart had a couple bouncers come over and encourage the group away.  Felicity and Stuart each got an arm and Oliver began to step toward the hall.

“Hey!” he beamed down at her.  “Felicity Smoak!  You never come to my club!” He looked behind them and shouted to the dance floor, “Look people!  It’s my Felicity, Felicity, my friend assistant executive Smoak! Haaaahaha!”

“Thanks, Stuart, I got him from here.”  When the man looked ready to doubt her she added, “I do not think Mr. Queen would like his current behavior to be on display to anyone else any more, don’t you?”  She wrapped her arm around Oliver’s waist, pushed her hip into him and he started to walk down the hall. 

They got to her faux office first but Oliver continued on to the cave door.  He left Felicity little choice but to follow since his arm was clinging to her shoulders.

“No, Oliv--.”

“Shhhhhhshsh!  I need to think…four,” beep, “seven,” beep, “wait, what’s next?”  She sighed, keyed in her code, and opened the door.  Oliver marched easily down the stairs.  He didn’t even seem drugged or drunk now.

“Oliver!  What is going on?”  She glanced over at Diggle; he had not moved.  Oliver had moved over to his training area and was contemplating some piece of sparring equipment.  “Oliver, hello?”

He turned and smiled at her.  And then he finished his buttons, took off his shirt, kicked off his shoes, and began to undo his belt.  The whole time he kept his eyes on her.

Felicity’s mouth fell open.  SOOOOOO many things were running through her head—had she ever seen Oliver Queen drunk?  What the hell was on that dart?  What happened to Diggle?  What was happening RIGHT NOW?!

She moved to her desk, her sanctuary of logic in the middle of this testosterone vigilantly Mecca.  She felt better with a couple tables and a bunch of computers between her and the man currently pushing down his slacks.

“Please wake up, John, please wake up,” she whispered without taking her eyes off Oliver.

“He can’t. I drugged him.” Oliver announced loudly.

“Whoa, what?” Felicity took a step around her desk.  “Oliver, why would you do that?”

Now he was only wearing his black boxer briefs.  And Holy CRAP, he was so freakin’ hot!  He tilted his head and gave her an easy grin.

“He kept trying to tell me what to do, Felicity!”  Before she could prepare herself, he was striding toward her.  She scrambled at the last second to put her chair between her and this un-Oliver.  He shrugged.  “He was about to do the same to me, so I don’t really feel bad about getting him first.”

Felicity was at a loss.  Learning how to handle a perfectly sober Oliver Queen was something she still considered beta.  But this?  She had no idea.  For the first time ever, a small part of her was actually scared of him.  Not that he would hurt her necessarily, but maybe hurt himself or try to be the Arrow, or, AAAAHHHHHHHGGGGG!

She badly wanted to close her eyes and massage her temple.  She settled for taking a deep, deep breath.  “Oliver.  Oliver, look at me.”  She used her loud voice, with a slight nod to Arrow-voice, which kinda surprised her, but whatever.

He looked away from one of the monitors and smiled at her.

“Oliver, do you remember getting stung by that dart?  It went through your suit and we took a blood sample.  Remember?”  He nodded.  “Ok, well, it had a drug on it that waited 24 hours before it affected you…”

He narrowed his eyes and crossed his perfect arms over his beautiful chest.  Sigh.

“Ok, so now, you are acting more, more like pre-island Oliver would act.  Which is bad, do you understand?”  She felt like she was talking to a toddler.

He didn’t move a muscle.  He just stood a couple feet away looking yummy and a little annoyed, with only a chair to separate them.  She stood still as well and waited.

It felt like 10 minutes but was probably only a couple before all hell broke loose.

Oliver shoved the chair to the side, grabbed Felicity’s wrists and pulled her into his body.  It happened so quickly she could only gasp. Bad idea.  His mouth attacked hers, tongues sweeping across, lips sucking, his hands moving.  One dug itself into the hair at the back of her neck, the other moved lower to grip her hip and hold her as he pushed his lower half into her.

And at first, she did nothing.  But she wasn’t a robot, and this wasn’t a stranger, this was Oliver!  Her Oliver.  The only thing her mind allowed to filter into her consciousness was the fact that she had been dreaming of this for months.  It didn’t matter that he was not acting like himself. 

So the biological Felicity took control, locking that damn logical, rational, normal woman away.  She moved her hands from between their bodies and squeezed his arms as she worked up to wrap around his neck.  He growled when she pressed her chest into his and she moaned when he started moving his hands up under the back of her shirt.  It was heavenly, damnit.  No wonder all the ladies threw themselves at him.  He was extremely good at making out.

Suddenly she was sitting on the edge of her desk with Oliver between her legs and he pushed up her skirt.

“Oliver,” she was breathing hard, almost gasping for oxygen after that intense kiss.  He ignored her and slowly got to his knees.  “Wh-wait!  Oliver?”

“Shhhh,” he whispered, his lips skimming the inside of her left thigh.  “You smell so good, Felicity,” he mumbled.  He moved forward, aiming for her soaking panty-covered mound but she couldn’t let him, not like this.  Kissing, ok, that was bad enough, but eating her pussy?!

She shoved his head hard and pushed his torso away with her feet.  He was so focused on her that he didn’t see that coming and he fell back onto his ass in a rather undignified manner, his arousal clearly straining his boxer briefs.

“No, Oliver.” She was going for stern but it came out squeaky.  “No.  You are not thinking clearly right now.”

Still on the floor, he pouted up at her still on the desk edge.  “But, you’re so wet, you want this too.”  He seemed quite confused.  It would be a funny expression normally, but not today.  “I know you want this.”

She stood up and straightened her skirt and glasses.  “Of course I do, you idiot!  But I also want it to be the real you wanting it.  It would also be nice if there was a chance you would remember and not regret it later.  Right now?  Not happening.”

Ok, finally.  Her pissed off mode had booted up and was operating at full.  She finally got her kiss and the fucking man was high!  Great timing, Smoak.  She grabbed her coat and swung it on, doing up every fastener she could find.  It didn’t do much for the easy access of her skirt, but it was long and hopefully got her point across.

“I am going to do some work while monitoring Diggle.  You,” she quickly typed a few things, “can do whatever you want as long as it does not involve me or Dig.”  He stood up and frowned.  “Also, I have us on lock down.  It is impossible to leave this basement for the next twelve hours.”

It was really only for two hours, but he didn’t need to know that.

“But what if I want something to eat?” he huffed at her.

“We have supplies.  We won’t be dying anytime soon.”  She grabbed her tablet and phone and pushed her chair over to the snoring Diggle, sat down and began to work, ignoring Oliver’s bad mood.

She sensed him stalking around, fiddling with this and that, throwing exaggerated huffs and sighs her way.  After about fifteen minutes of this ridiculous behavior, he slammed his palms onto a table top and glared at her.

“Fine.”  She looked up just in time to see him push off his underwear, grab a bar of steel and launch his glorious body up onto the salmon ladder.

HOLY MOTHER OF MOSES.

NAKED salmon laddering?!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not done yet! More to read soon. Comments and kudos make me smile...


	4. The one where Felicity watches Oliver

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver is naked. Oliver is doing the salmon ladder (finally, right?!). Felicity can't NOT watch him.
> 
> Oh, and Diggle wakes up...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the love so far! It's kinda sad how happy your comments and kudos make me, hehe.

She couldn’t look away!  It was like seeing a bad crash on the road and not being able to stop staring at the carnage! 

It was kinda awkward, but still sexy, damn it.  Every muscle flexed and relaxed as he moved his solid self upwards.  Yeah, his ass flashed her awkwardly as he pulled his knees up, gathering himself and powering up to the next rung.  Then he would rest a few seconds as his beautiful, sweaty, lean, mean fighting machine swayed.  Delectable.

Her mouth watered and her eyes watched his hard penis in all its glory.  It was so…Wow.  Strong, rigid, intense…All she could imagine was how each and every one of those muscles would look, would feel, working toward an orgasmic release, hers and his…

He continued moving up.  Then Felicity heard a small moan beside her and she turned away to look down at Diggle.  He was moving his head side to side but his eyes stayed closed.

But it was enough to break the spell.  Her flush spread over her entire body and she closed her eyes.  She had just shamelessly ogled her naked, compromised boss, her friend!  Why had she looked?!  Ok, well, she knew why, but still!

Bad Felicity.  Bad, bad Felicity M. Smoak!

When she heard him drop to the floor and start some other stress relieving exercise—NO, not that, damnit, she meant crunches or something…stupid brain.  Anyway, the point was she did not look.  She focused on Diggle.

She checked his pulse, seemed normal.  Before she could rethink it, her palm struck out, slapping hard across his face.  She decided she needed him awake more than her hand, or his cheek, needed to avoid the sting.

He grunted with pain.  His eyes flashed open but weren’t focused. 

“John!” she dug her nails into his forearm.  “John, PLEASE wake up.” She swallowed.  “I need you,” she added in a whisper.

She glanced over her shoulder.  Oliver was now at the alley door.  His bare ass clenched as he attempted to force open the door.  She rolled her eyes and looked back at Diggle.

He blinked rapidly several times and groaned.  “Felicity?”

She closed her eyes and mouthed a thank you.

“Yeah, it’s me.”  She smoothed her palm over his forehead and down his cheek, soothing the red hand print barely visible against his skin.  “Sorry, about the slap.  How do you feel?”

He took her hand and held it tight against his chest.  “Like nothing good happened.”  He let go and began sitting up.  “Shit.”  He groaned some more and stretched, his back audibly cracking.  “Did that crazy bastard drug me?  I’m gonna ki—.”

Diggle’s eyes widened as he spotted naked Oliver, now sitting on a table, swinging his legs, staring at the monitors.  Diggle looked at Felicity.

“Yeah,” she lowered her eyes and flushed again.  “So, I think that dart finally kicked in.” 

“You think?” he shook his head.  “Do I want to know what went on while I was unconscious?”  His eyes seemed to be trying to find the answer in hers, but she stood up and avoided his gaze.  “Felicity.”

“No, you do NOT want to know, Diggle.”  She dropped onto the sofa next to him and put her head in her hands.  “When I got here, you were passed out down here and I found Oliver about to do a strip tease on his bar upstairs.”  She held up her hand to keep Diggle quiet.  “After I got him down here, he…um, he decided to finish striping…”

“We made out!” Oliver announced smugly from across the room.  “She got so wet…”

Felicity moaned and pulled herself into a ball in the corner of the sofa.

Diggle stood, a bit unsteadily, and clenched his fists.  “Oliver.  What did you do to Felicity?”  He was in his big-brother, ass-kicker mode.

She reached out and grabbed his shirt.  “No, no it was nothing like that, John.  We just kissed, honestly.  The rest of the time, he just worked out, I guess you could call it,” she mumbled.

Oliver apparently thought this conversation was boring because he jumped off the table, grabbed a stick and began wailing on the training dummies.

“What the fuck was on that dart?!” Diggle rumbled at Felicity.

“More like, what the fuck do we do now?” she responded.

“I say first thing, get some pants on his bare ass.”  He took a few steps, paused to take a deep, steadying breath, and then marched over to the pile of clothes and on to Oliver.  Felicity took the chance to scurry away to the bathroom.  She wanted to collect herself, maybe splash some cold water and wash away images.  Yeah, right.  Those were forever burned into her hard drive.

She wasn’t a prude.  She wasn’t a virgin.  But she felt, weird, about this whole evening.  She assumed she would have to wait and see how much HE remembered tomorrow, before going into full blown panic/damage control mode.

When she returned to her computers, Oliver had his slacks on again.  Diggle was standing near him, eying him wearily.

“I took another blood sample.” Diggle told her.  “I’m sending this one to Lyla.”  She nodded. 

Oliver sighed.  “Felicity.”  She startled in her chair, rolling it slightly away.  Diggle saw Oliver flinch and frown.  “I’m sorry,” he whispered.  She quickly glanced at him and back to her computers.  Oliver sighed again and walked over to the couch.  He flopped down and leaned back to stare up at the ceiling.

Diggle put his hands on the back of Felicity’s chair as she focused on her screens.  “I think he’s coming down from the high.”

“Mmm hmm,” she continued typing.

“You want to call it a night?  I’ll stay here, keep him in check.”

“She locked the place down for 12 hours.” Oliver called out without moving.

“I didn’t, actually,” she told Diggle.  “I lied, the lock releases in ten minutes.”  She raised her head and looked right at Oliver.  “I’ll go at that time.”  He looked back at her, the unreadable Oliver again in place.  She sighed.  “You boys can do whatever you want.  I’m done until Monday.”

“Felicity,” Oliver stood up.  “I don’t even know…I—.”

“No,” she held up a finger and he stopped moving toward her.  “No, Oliver.  I know this wasn’t your fault,” she softened her face, “but I just can’t do this tonight.  Or this weekend.  Monday is the soonest I can give you.”  She wasn’t upset with the kiss, or the nakednes, but she was very upset about the emotions churning through her because of it.

The arrowcave remained silent and tense until a soft beep and click announced that the doors had unlocked.  She grabbed her things, smiled awkwardly at her boys, and moved to the alley door.

She paused before opening it.  “I’m glad you seem to be ok, Oliver.”  And she walked out.  Wow, she really needed to stop on the way home and pick up lots of red wine…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all I currently have written. What do you think so far? Totally too weird and not at all sexy? (That's what my roommate says...) Do you want more or should I just leave it here? I started it just for some fluff, not a storyline, so I wasn't planning on any more...
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	5. The one where hangovers are endured

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver wakes up clueless about the previous night. Diggle is both laughing at and concerned for Oliver.
> 
> Felicity just wants to survive Saturday.

         Oliver woke Saturday morning at his usual early hour.  The sun was just beginning to creep into his room.  But he felt neither rested nor relaxed.  He felt…hung-over?

         Huh.

         Not something he could remember feeling since the Gambit went down…He looked around his room for clues.  No empty bottles.  No ladies clothing, either, thank god.  (He did freeze to listen for someone in his bathroom, but sensed no one.)

         He rolled off his bed and walked to the window.  He felt stiff.  He stretched, twisted, rolled his limbs and joints.  It wasn’t from a fight.  No new bruises or major injuries.  He scowled out over the morning haze.

         Oliver did not enjoy this feeling.  It was…not good, that he had no recollection of Friday night.  He dropped to the floor and began some rapid pushups, trying to get the blood pumping and his brain functioning.

         A floorboard creaking near him sent him flying to his feet and throwing out his arm to strike.

         “Whoa, easy there, Big Bro!” Thea skidded to a stop and held up her hands.  “Just me, Ollie.”  She frowned at him.

         “Thea.” He composed his face and forced a brotherly smile.  “Sorry.  What’s up?”  He walked around her to find a t-shirt; Thea had seen his scarred body already but he still wasn’t comfortable letting her see them again.  “Bit early for you.”

         He felt her watching his every move.  “Yeah, well, I was kinda concerned after getting about fifty different texts and a few voicemails from people at the Club claiming that the owner was about to dance on the bar.”  She folded her arms and raised her chin.  “Want to tell me about that?”

         He kept his back to her, yanked on a shirt, and racked his memory.  “Uhh…”

         “It was a dare,” called Diggle as he strode in with two mugs of coffee.  Oliver took one and noticed Diggle’s extra intense scrutiny.  “Some punk tried to get Oliver to strip but before he could teach the kid a lesson, Ms. Smoak came over with some QC issue.”  Oliver stared back at his partner with his usual poker face as Thea snorted.  “I think everyone was just mad the showdown was avoided.” 

         Thea narrowed her eyes at the security expert.  She tapped her fingers along her arm, and then looked at Oliver.  “Ollie?”

         Oliver glanced at Diggle even as he nodded.  “Yes, Thea?”

         The Queen siblings wore matching narrowed eyes, crossed arms, and flat mouths.  Diggle pretended to be reading texts on his phone and walked a little away.

         “Oh, fine.”  Thea tossed up her hands and stomped toward the door.  “It’s not like I haven’t heard almost every horrible story before, ya know Big Brother.  But if you want to be all mysterious, what-evs.”  She walked out but then shouted back, “By the way?  Front page, above the fold.”

         “What?” barked Oliver but Diggle shook his head.

         “Later, Oliver.” he advised as he followed Thea and closed the door, clicking the lock before turning to look at Oliver.  “How you feeling, man?”

         “Diggle, what the hell happened last night?!” Oliver growled.  “Why don’t I remember anything after leaving the office?”

         Diggle smirked.  “You remember that little dart, right?”

         Oliver paused, rewinding his brain.  Shit.  He squeezed his eyes shut and leaned on the back of an arm chair.  “I take it whatever it was laced with waited 24hrs to kick in?”  The island herbs must have not worked, or they simply delayed the dart’s effect.

         “That’s right, my friend.”  But then Diggle’s smile faded and genuine concern crept into his face.  “What DO you remember?”

         Oliver took a few hearty swallows of his black coffee.  “I…remember telling Felicity the work day was over and then I got onto the elevator.  I remember getting into the car with you, and…the Club…shit.  I don’t remember arriving at the club.”

         Suddenly, Oliver was frantic to find his phone.  He spotted it charging on his desk and he lunged for it, slamming his half full mug onto the desktop.

         “Oliver?”  Diggle asked.  He put down his own mug and quickly walked over to his friend, placing a hopefully calming hand on his shoulder.

         “Just…wait…” Oliver shrugged off the hand and scrolled through the unread texts and the missed calls.  “Where’s Felicity?  Is she ok?  Why hasn’t she called or texted me?  John?”

         Oliver searched his friend’s face.  Was Diggle fighting a smiled?

         Finally, Diggle sighed.  “Oliver, man, all I can say is I am glad I am not in your shoes.”

         Oliver clenched his jaw.  “This isn’t funny, Diggle.  Is she ok?”

         “Yeah.  She’s…not injured.”  When Oliver opened his mouth to protest, Diggle held up a hand.  “I would tell you if she was hurt, Oliver.”  He watched emotions play across Oliver’s face and he grew concerned.  Oliver almost never let his feelings and thoughts appear.  “Queen, what’s going through that head of yours now?”

         Oliver clenched his hands and stiffly turned away.  “What.  Happened.  Last night?”  He was using his Arrow voice, and Diggle almost thought he had activated the voice modulator.  But that was safely locked up back in the Verdant basement.  This was all Oliver.  “Diggle!  For fuck’s sake!” Oliver suddenly shouted.

         “Hey hey hey,” Diggle held up his palms.  “Take it down a notch.  I’m not keeping anything from you, ok?  We’re all in this together.”  Diggle gripped Oliver and pushed him down into the desk chair.  “Deep breaths.”

         The fact that Oliver Queen allowed himself to be manhandled and told to breath, and was actually taking deep breaths, really concerned Diggle.  But the security expert kept his own emotions hidden.

         “Ok, sorry.”  Oliver rubbed his hands harshly over his face and groaned loudly.  “So Felicity is alright?”

         “Yes.”

         Oliver bobbed his head.  “Ok.  Give me the highlights of last night.  And then we’ll decide what to do next.” 

         Diggle nodded.  “We got to the club like normal but you insisted on going in through the club and not the alley entrance.  You started to dance with a group of women, but I managed to get you down into the basement.”  He chuckled softly, ignoring Oliver’s glare.  “You started to get really pissed with me and all my suggestions that you weren’t acting like yourself, and I was trying to get a sedative ready and the next thing I remember is Felicity slapping me awake.”

         “I drugged you?  Dig, I, I’m—.”

         “Naw, man,” Diggle waved him off.  “It wasn’t you, Oliver.  I mean, you weren’t thinking clearly.”

         They sat silently for several moments.

         “So…” Oliver closed his eyes.  “Why are you glad you’re not in my shoes, and why hasn’t felicity checked on me yet?”  He opened his eyes and raw emotion was swimming near the surface again.

         Diggle sucked in a breath and lifted his eyebrows.  “Right.  Felicity.  Ok,” he swallowed nervously.  “Apparently, after knocking me out, you returned to the bar and she found you right before you stripped on the bar top.”

         “What,” Oliver growled.

         “Yeah, and you were really wasted at that point.  She got you back into the basement and locked all three of us in.”  Diggle stopped talking.  Oliver looked up into his face, waiting.  Diggle sighed.  “You kissed her, man.”

         Oliver shot to his feet.  “Kissed?  Felicity.  I kissed Felicity?” he shouted and cringed because he hated shouting.  Suddenly, his head was pounding and he gripped the sides of his head and fell to his knees.

         He knew Diggle was talking to him but all he could focus on was the blood pulsing through his temple.  He must have passed out because when he opened his eyes, he was on his bed with Diggle placing a cool washcloth on his forehead.

         “Whoa,” he croaked.  “What happened?”

         “I’d guess it’s part of the let down from the drug.  Maybe also having coffee on an empty stomach?”  Diggle helped Oliver sit up.  “Want some food?”

         “I guess.  Just some toast.  Damnit, this is the worse hangover I’ve ever had, man.”  Diggle smirked and opened his mouth but Oliver beat him to it—“And coming from me, that’s really saying something.  Haha.  Just get me some damn toast.”

         Diggle laughed and went to find Raisa.  While he was gone, Oliver couldn’t resist and he called Felicity.  But it went to her voicemail after several rings.  “Uh, Felicity.  It’s Oliver.”  He frowned, he sounded like an idiot.  “Call me…I think we need to talk?”  He paused but couldn’t think of anything else and so he just hung up.  Brilliant.

         Maybe a text.  ‘Felicity.  Diggle just told me about the kiss.  All I can say is I’m sorry.’ He hit send.  ‘Can we talk soon, please?’ Send.

         He sat on his bed, staring at his phone in his hands.  His headache was a dull ache now.  Manageable.  But his heart seemed to be hurting now.  For a second, he thought it was a heart attack or something.  But he realized it was something worse.  Guilt, anger, shame…

         Diggle returned carrying a tray but Oliver kept looking down at his phone.

         “Oh, man.  Please don’t tell me you called her?”

         Oliver nodded.  “And texted.  Over five minutes ago.”  He finally looked up at Diggle.  “Is she really that mad about the kiss?  That she’s avoiding me?”

         Diggle took the phone and handed him a plate of toast instead.  “Eat.  Then I’ll tell you the rest.”

         “There’s more?!” He almost squeaked like Felicity sometimes did.

         “Food first.” ordered Diggle.  After Oliver shoved the whole piece into his mouth, Diggle chuckled.  “Fine.  You also got naked and worked out in front of her.”

         Oliver choked on his mouthful of toast.  Diggle patted him on the back none-too-gently.

         “I told you, I would not want to be in your shoes currently.”  He handed Oliver glass of orange juice.  “I think by the time I woke up, she was mostly just, just desperate for the whole evening to end.  As soon as the lockdown ended, she left us, saying she wasn’t mad but that she couldn’t deal with it all until Monday.”

         Oliver nodded sadly.  “And today is…Saturday, right?”

         “Yes, sir,” acknowledged Diggle.  “So don’t expect a response any time soon, my friend.”

         Oliver grabbed some more toast and moved to look out the window.  Diggle took out his own phone and covertly texted Felicity, ‘Hey, sorry, Oliver doesn’t remember last night or your need for space this weekend.’ Send.  ‘I just told him and he is really upset but understands.  See you Monday.’  Send.  ‘But if you need me, or him, before Monday, just ask. –D’ Send.

 

*** ***

 

          Friday night and Saturday morning were a giant, wine-fueled haze.  Felicity hated that she let the situation get to her like this, but it had.  And so she had wine.  And now she was valiantly attempting to conquer her hangover at the neighborhood diner.

         “Here you go, kiddo,” said the busy waitress.  She set down cheesy scrambled eggs, turkey bacon, extra crispy English muffins with a basket of assorted jams, sliced grilled tomatoes, and a bowl of fresh fruit.  “Anything other than the coffee?”

         Felicity smiled, barely, and mumbled a no thanks.  She forced bites into her mouth but only opened her eyes when she needed to reload her fork.  She knew she looked awful.  She also knew she didn’t give a damn.  She considered it impressive that she even had a bra on and two of the same shoes.

         She NEVER gets drunk.  For a lot of very reasonable reasons—ha! reasonable reasons, nice one—but mostly because she did not handle the hangover part well.  Nope.  Not.  At.  All.  Well.

         Chew chew chew.  Swallow.  Fork.  Chew chew chew.  Swallow.  Coffee. Fork.

         Slowly, the tastes began to make the trip to her brain.  Her eyes stayed open longer and her movements became less robotic.  Her third cup of coffee kicked in.  Human Felicity was starting to surface.

         She finished her fruit and most of everything else and sat back in her booth.  She sighed loudly.  Human again…she glanced at the retro wall clock over the register—2:05pm.  She smiled sadly at herself.  All she wanted to do now was fall asleep again.

         She left more than enough cash for her bill and a good tip, and walked out, headed back to her apartment and bed.  As she walked, she decided to give in and check her phone.

         Sure enough, a missed call from O. Queen and five new texts, two from Oliver, three from Diggle.  She skimmed them quickly and decided not to look at her phone again until Sunday.  She arrived home and fell onto her bed, asleep in seconds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and commenting! This story has a mind of its own; I think I lost control a while ago, sorry. I am writing more, and your thoughts do help. Enjoy!


	6. The one where Oliver learns what he did

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver is better but still doesn’t remember anything from that night. Felicity is better but can’t wait until Monday for a team meeting. Diggle and Oliver watch some interesting video footage. Oh, and Oliver buys doughnuts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here’s a long chapter, folks. I tried to keep it from being TOO angst-y, but let’s face it, this wasn’t going to be a pretty chapter. I hope you like it! And I hope you leave a comment because I love interacting with the awesome people on AO3!

Oliver wondered into the living room late Saturday afternoon and threw himself down next to his sister, causing her to bounce and glare at him.  He just smiled back at her.

“Here,” she stabbed a newspaper into his chest.  “This will wipe that smile away, I’m sure.”  She repositioned herself to better watch him.

Oliver shook open the paper and froze.  Above the fold, sure enough, was a candid photo of him sitting on the Verdant bar, a small group of mostly women but a few men, too, surrounding him.  He appeared to be unbuttoning his shirt and he was grinning like an idiot.  How do I not remember this?

“Pretty good photo, right?” he tried to laugh it off.  Thea huffed and jabbed a small fist hard into his shoulder.  “Oww, hey!”

“This is not funny, Oliver Queen!” she waved a finger in his face.  “That club is very important to me and I will not have your little stunts turn it into some den of debauchery!”

His eyes crinkled as he held in a smirk.  “Debauchery?  Really?”

“I am serious, Oliver!  What the hell is wrong with you?”  But she didn’t wait for an answer.  She stood up quickly.  “Just, just get your shit together in public and be an irresponsible asshole in private, ok?”  And she marched out as only a Queen woman seemed able to do.

Oliver sat with his mouth open.

“Wow,” Diggle whistled as he entered the room.  “Did your little sister really just give you a lecture?”

Oliver closed his mouth and tipped his head.  “I guess so.”  He waved the paper at Diggle.  “Apparently, this is not the reputation she wants for HER club.”  He gave a small laugh.  Diggle remained standing just inside the room.  “What’s up, Dig?”

He glanced back into the hall before speaking.  “Lyla got back to me about the sample I sent her last night.  Your blood?”  Oliver nodded even though he couldn’t remember.  “It’s some altered version of rare spider venom.  She says they’ve been encountering it over in Africa for a few months now, but this was the first of it in the US.”

“Great,” mumbled Oliver.

“She’s sent some antidote to us and to local hospitals, assuming you aren’t going to be the only case.”  Diggle looked at his feet and then back at Oliver.  “According to their scientists, this drug can cause memory loss, lowers inhibitions, raises the libido, and in high enough doses it can cause paralysis and even death.”

Oliver stood and started to pace.  “So, maybe my herbs did do something,” he suggested.

“That’s what I was thinking.”  He glanced into the hall again and then pulled out a syringe filled with a light purple liquid.  “They recommended you take the antidote anyway, just to be sure it’s flushed out completely.”

Oliver nodded and held out his arm, flexing the vein closer to the surface.  Diggle expertly administered it before replacing the cover on the needle and putting it into his breast pocket.  He would dispose of it away from the house.

He stood next to Oliver, watching the other man frowning and pulling into his own thoughts again.  It made Diggle sad to see his friend struggle but like so many veterans he had known, sometimes all he could offer was silent support.  So he placed a hand on Oliver’s shoulder and squeezed it.

Oliver turned his head and nodded at Diggle.  “Thank you, John.”  
  
*** ***

Felicity’s alarm sounded at 8am Sunday morning.  She reached out to turn it off but she was tangled in the throw blanket she kept at the foot of her bed, and all she managed to do was roll off and thud onto the floor.

But instead of being annoyed, she began to laugh.  She got free, still laughing, and turned off the alarm.  She brushed the tears off her cheeks and sat down on the edge of her bed.  She still had on the clothes she had worn to the diner yesterday afternoon.  But she felt good, refreshed.

She stood, stretched, and stripped.  She flushed as she recalled the last act of stripping in her life.  She shook her whole body to try ridding it of the images.  She pulled on her robe, went to grab the Sunday paper from her mat in front of her apartment door, and turn on the coffee maker.  As the machine gurgled and filled her home with a wonderful aroma, she glanced at the front page.

It was the same photo as Saturday’s paper (not that she knew this at the time, having been too hung over to read yesterday), and also a photo of CEO Oliver Queen at some QC function a few weeks ago.  She frowned, skimmed the article and sighed.  While it wasn’t too harsh, it also wasn’t flattering.  But at least it didn’t have a shred of truth as to why Oliver had behaved that way Friday night.  It was better to let the public make its own assumptions, usually.  She sighed again and folded that page back so she didn’t have to look at Oliver any more.

She poured her coffee into her favorite mug, (“IT Girls know how to push all the right buttons, need her to push yours?”) and decided to check her phone.

Only one text, from Diggle.  ‘Lyla came through, forwarded the email to you.  O still doesn’t remember.’

Felicity quickly checked her email on her tablet.  When her shoulders relaxed, she suddenly realized just how worried she had been for Oliver despite his Friday night show.  She closed her eyes and felt that damn kiss again.

“Crap,” she moaned aloud.  She had successfully forgotten that until just now.  His hands, his taste, his warmth, he gaze as he looked between her legs...she felt herself grow damp, the wetness teasing as it crept down because she wasn't currently wearing panties…crap crap crap.  “And he doesn’t even remember, does he?!”  She pressed her legs together.

She grabbed a yogurt from the fridge and savagely ate it while standing in her kitchen.  She wasn’t going to be able to wait until tomorrow.  She quickly texted Diggle and then went to get ready for the day.

*** ***

Sunday morning, Diggle was awoken by a text from Felicity.

‘Hey, thank L for me. Glad we got help. Can’t wait any longer. Where is he?’

Diggle snorted and groaned.  “Oh, man.”  But he replied, ‘Good morning to you too, F.’ Send.  ‘I think he said workout this morning. Need me there or no witnesses preferred?’  Send.

He rolled out of bed and got ready anyway.  Even if they both insisted he didn’t need to be there, he thought they would need a buffer; plus, he really wanted to see how this played out.  So sue him.

Twenty minutes later his phone beeped.  ‘Good morning. Sorry.  I guess team issue, so see you soon.’  He nodded at the phone and grabbed his keys.  Was it horrible of him to be so excited for this team meeting?

As he walked to his car, he texted Oliver.  ‘Heads up, team meeting about to happen. Go get doughnuts and start praying.’  Send.  He chuckled evilly and got in his car.  
  
*** ***

Oliver had wasted no time, and was back from the doughnut run before either of his teammates arrived.  He placed the large pink box filled with every kind of doughnut they had on Felicity’s desk.  He couldn’t stay still though, and so he grabbed a sledge hammer and began attacking the monster tire.

The sweating, straining, letting frustration out and almost roaring with each whack felt phenomenal.  He was feeling more like himself, finally, and he decided he was ready for facing his IT partner.

No one ever claimed he was a genius.

Because as soon as he looked up mid-swing and saw her descending the stairs, all confidence vanished.  He missed the tire and smacked the concrete.

“SHIT!” he really did roar this time.  His hands and arms vibrated painfully, he dropped the heavy hammer loudly, and he turned so she didn’t see his face.

“Oliver?” called Diggle from the alley entrance.

His teammates approached him from opposite sides, sharing concerned expressions.

“Why did you hammer the floor?” Felicity asked, wide eyes looking at the dent next to the tire.

“I didn’t mean to, Felicity,” he groaned, rubbing his hands.  He glanced up at Diggle and frowned at the man’s grin.  “Doughnuts.  Your desk,” he added to felicity.

“Oh, perfect!”  And she scurried back to her area.  “Oh my gosh, Oliver! Did you leave any there?!”  She laughed as she looked in the box.  Oliver smiled as he watched her (it was so nice to see her and hear that laugh)…until he felt Diggle’s eyes on him again.

“What?” he spoke quietly but with an edge to his tone.  But Diggle just shrugged and moved to choose a doughnut, too.

Oliver waited a few minutes, letting the two of them chat and munch before he joined them.  As he approached, Felicity looked up.  She didn’t flash her usual smile upon seeing him and Oliver’s heart did that painful twinge thing again.  But she also didn’t avoid his gaze, so he tried to take a small comfort in that.

“Hi,” he said gently when he got to her side.  She tilted back in her chair to keep looking at him.

“Hi,” she replied simply after a moment.  He searched her face.  She was only slightly blushing, but otherwise she was poker faced.  Her body language was confusing him, too; her black-jean clad legs crossed at her ankles, sneakers today, but she wasn't crossing her arms. One purple polka dot sleeved arm was on the armrest, the other held a doughnut.

She seemed to be waiting.  For something.  From him?  He glanced at Diggle, but only got a blank stare in return.  Great.  So much for teammates.

“Felicity,” he stopped and sighed.  He didn't even know what to say, he couldn't remember anything!

She just offered the barest of smiles but remained silent.  He looked at Diggle again, pleading silently for assistance.

Apparently it was Diggle's turn to be the softie, because he sighed heavily and nodded.

"Felicity."  She swiveled to look up at him.  "I think our friend here is having trouble knowing how to act since he can't recall...well, how he acted."

Oliver ignored Diggle’s smirk and nodded at Felicity when she swiveled back to him.

Felicity pursed her lips to one side of her face and then the other with a rather cute contemplative expression.

"He could watch the footage," she finally spoke, but it was directed at Diggle and Oliver felt a pain again.

"Excuse me?" coughed Diggle.

"Yeah," she waved her hand vaguely toward the ceiling.  "I flipped on the interior cameras when I got him back down here that night."  She shrugged and kinda did her own smirk.  "Seemed like a good idea, you know.  Proof.  Whatever."

Both men were standing before her with slack jaws and raised brows.  She looked back and forth between them, waiting, her own eyebrows starting to creep up with the continued silence.

"But, how..." Oliver shifted his feet.

"When were you going to share this, Felicity?" demanded Diggle, standing akimbo.

"Yes." Oliver said.

“‘Yes’ what?" Diggle asked.

"I need to see that night." He faced Felicity and nodded. "If my behavior, no matter the cause, has changed anything about...this, us, our friendships, our team..." He sighed and closed his eyes.  "I need to see it and fix it." He opened his eyes and stared right into Felicity's eyes.  "Please."

*** ***

Oliver stood behind Felicity and crossed his arms.  She typed rapidly and an image of the basement flickered onto the largest monitor on her desk.

It was the camera angle right above them, giving a view of the computer tables and some of the workout area.  He saw Felicity standing at her desk wearing a skirt and blouse and himself on the mats wearing…well, now just his underwear because the recording just captured him removing his pants.

‘He can’t.  I drugged him.’  Oliver heard himself shout.

‘Whoa, what?’  Felicity took a step toward him. ‘Oliver, why would you do that?’

Drugged Oliver suddenly said something and charged over to Felicity.  She had put a chair between them quickly, and sober Oliver cringed as he saw the fear flash across her face.  He wanted to stop the scene, erase it and somehow have that erase the actual events, too.

Onscreen Felicity was saying something.  She was trying to reason with the fool.  And then, he saw himself throw the chair aside and grab Felicity.

He clenched his fists and swore under his breath.  Felicity shifted uneasily in her chair.

Diggle hid his mouth behind his hand and flicked his gaze between his two teammates as they watched onscreen Oliver Queen hold onscreen Felicity against his nearly naked body and crush his lips to hers.

Oliver growled at his behavior.  Felicity suddenly stood and walked quickly to the stairs.  “Felicity,” he was about to follow her as she went upstairs, when he saw onscreen Felicity wrap her arms around his neck.  Wait.  What?

He glanced over at Diggle.  “She kissed me back?”  But he didn’t wait for an answer.  Diggle himself was a bit shocked.  He had still been knocked out at this point and Felicity had not gone into detail about what he had missed.  So he just watched in stunned silence with Oliver, as hands went under her shirt and onto her breasts…

“Shit, man!” Diggle choked when Felicity was suddenly on the desk with Oliver between her legs.

“Ohmygodshit.” Oliver felt like he was going to pass out.  How could he have done that to his Felicity?!  But apparently it got worse.

He sucked in a breath as he watched his own hands push up her skirt, heard her panting his name, and saw himself get onto his knees.  “No no no no…” he hissed between clenched teeth.  He was shaking his head.  It didn’t matter that he was drugged.  He had attacked his friend when she had been trying to help him.  There was…it…nothing…he growled low and loud when he heard himself say, ‘Shhhh…You smell so good, Felicity,’ and he moved toward her pussy.

He saw Diggle, out of the corner of his eye, stand taller and tense every muscle in his body and angle slightly toward sober Oliver.  He could sense an enraged alpha male vibe radiate from the larger man and Oliver badly wanted to step away.

But then they saw their onscreen IT expert shove and kick Oliver onto his ass. ‘No, Oliver.  No.  You are not thinking clearly right now.’

“Damn right,” mumbled Diggle as he crossed his massive arms, eyeing both Olivers with narrowed eyes.

‘But, you’re so wet, you want this too.  I know you want this.’  Sober Oliver squeezed his eyes shut.  He heard the remote yet still firm voice of onscreen Felicity but he couldn’t open his eyes.  ‘Of course I do, you idiot!   But I also want it to be the real you wanting it.  It would also be nice if there was a chance you would remember and not regret it later.  Right now?  Not happening.’

It was Diggle’s relieved, breathy chuckle that got him to open his eyes again.  He watched Felicity put on her coat, lock down the arrowcave, and basically start to ignore the pathetic Oliver.  He sensed Diggle relax slightly and he no longer felt like he was about to be pummeled by his friend.

But the embarrassments continued, as he pouted and sulked, and then slamming his hands on the table, undressing completely, and starting the salmon ladder.

“Are you shitting me?” guffawed Diggle, clutching his stomach as he bent forward laughing.  “Oh, wow, I really wish we had a shot of Felicity’s face when you started THAT!”

For the first time in years, Oliver felt himself start to blush.  Maybe someday, this would be funny to him.  But at the moment, he was trying to not punch his almost giggling friend right in the nose.

The camera only had a partial view, and bird’s eye at that, of the naked Oliver—you could only see his knees, and another very stiff appendage, as he moves up the rungs.  Diggle was catching his breath and grinning at Oliver.  Oliver ground his teeth.  How much more was there?  Fuck.

A loud slap sounded, followed by a stressed Felicity saying ‘John!  John, PLEASE wake up.’ And then almost inaudible, ‘I need you.’

“That slap had hurt, but it did wake me up,” Diggle sighed.  The two men watched naked Oliver try to leave through the alley door.  Some hushed conversation off camera, and then naked Oliver sitting on a table looking bored…until he loudly shouted, ‘We made out!  She got so wet…’

Sober Oliver roared loudly and held his head painfully between closed fists.  “How am I EVER going to look at her again, Dig?  Shit!”  He forced himself to look at the screen again. 

But he had sort of slipped into a detached numbness.  He saw Felicity pull back Diggle, saw himself start to hit the training dummy, saw Diggle make him get dressed and take a blood sample, watched his lame attempts at apologizing, and finally, saw Felicity start to leave and say, ‘I’m glad you seem to be ok, Oliver.’

Diggle reached out and stopped the video.  “We stayed here a little longer, until you were willing to finish getting dressed, and then I took you back to the Queen mansion.  You pretty much slept after that.”

Oliver stood frozen, eyeing the monitor that was now black.  He could vaguely see himself and Diggle reflected in it.  He closed his eyes and dropped his head.  Diggle cleared his throat and moved away.  Oliver kept his eyes closed.

He had fucked up, big time.  No excuses.  Felicity was amazing.  She should have shot him with Diggle’s gun or left his ass to fend for himself in Verdant.  But of course she hadn’t; she did what she always did and took care of him and Diggle.

“So,” Diggle said softly, coming back over and patting Oliver on the back.  “How are you going to fix this?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did have fun writing this, I admit. I think (hope? ha) that the next chapter will be lighter, as in Felicity and Oliver fixing this mess. Oh, and I forgot to tag Thea as a character, but I fixed it now. Thanks for reading!


	7. The one where they talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver and Felicity talk it out; things get a bit emotional, angsty even. His actions under the influence, her responses (physical and verbal), and what happens next.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a wait, sorry. Couldn't decide where I was going with this. Anyway, thanks for continuing to read and comment, you rock! Hope you enjoy this.
> 
> As always, I don't own these characters, I just use them, (insert evil laughter here).

He finds her upstairs, sitting on a stool at the end of his bar, swinging her feet slightly, and stirring her drink.  He pauses in the hallway entrance to watch her; he needs to know how to approach her.  And, yes, he is also just plain putting it off for as long as he can.

He glances up at the camera in the hall and knows Dig is watching him.  For a moment, Oliver Queen debates which poses a great threat: his bodyguard's arms or Felicity's emotions.

He looks away from the camera and back out into the club.  The place isn't open during the day but there is a lot of activity; cleaning and restocking and so forth.

He spots Roy moving toward him carrying a heavy box and nods a hello as the young man passes him in the hall.  Roy dips his head in return but doesn't try to chat.  Oliver likes him a little more for it.

Felicity smiles at one of the bouncers who stopped at her elbow.  He holds up his paycheck and she laughs. Oliver can't hear what they are saying but they seem friendly.

A minute later, the big man pulls her into a squeezing side hug.  Oliver hears her laugh and groan in mock pain before she pushes the man away and wags her finger at him.  The smile Felicity now wore was her open happy grin and Oliver dug his fingernails into his palms.  It had been a very long time since that radiant face was aimed at him; before this dart mess, by several weeks.

"Do I need to hold your hand?" Oliver was startled but didn't show it as Diggle joined him in the hall suddenly.

"No," he replied firmly.

"Ok," Diggle raised his chin toward their IT friend.  "How about I give you a kick in the ass and shove you over to her?"

Oliver clenched his teeth but didn't say anything.  He took a deep, cleansing breath and walked over to the end of the bar.

He rested his forearms on the bar.  "Can I buy you a drink, miss?" he said lamely.

Felicity glanced at him.  "Have one, thanks."  She gave him an almost sad smile.  "So, watch any good TV lately?"

Oliver searched Felicity's face.  She didn’t seem angry.  She blinked at him from behind her glasses.  She seemed…not tired, exactly; more like, resigned.  As though she had come to some decision or had had an epiphany.  He found he desperately missed her bright and open expression that she used to wear more often than not.  When had that brightness faded?  Why hadn’t he noticed it missing before now?

“Well?” she smirked.  “Anything interesting on,” she lowered her voice, “Arrow-TV?”

"Actually, no." He wanted to return her attempt at joking, but he didn’t deserve to let this go so easily.  He looked down at his arms.  "Only thing on was this horrible man attacking his friend who--."

She spun on her stool and grabbed his nearest arm.  "No, Oliver."

"No?" he raised an eyebrow.

She shook her head and gripped his arm harder.  "I know you.  You are going to take every ounce of blame and guilt over this situation, let it eat away at every good thought you've had about yourself recently, and shut down into Arrow-mode 24/7."

He opened his mouth to argue but her head tip stopped him.

"Fine," he growled lowly.  He closed his eyes briefly.  "But I can’t just pretend that evening never happened, Felicity!"

He opened his eyes and found hers had returned to watching her drink.

"Felic-ity," he spoke softly.  He shouldn’t be growling an apology at her.  Fuck, he was such an idiot.  When she didn't look at him again, he reached over, touched her far cheek and turned her head.

Their faces were inches from touching.  He could feel her breath, smell the fruit and alcohol of her drink as she let out a soft sigh.

He kept his fingers on her jaw line.  "I'm sorry," he whispered.  It didn’t feel like it was enough.  She closed her eyes and pressed her forehead to his.  Her glasses bumped his face softly before they moved lower on her nose.

"For what, exactly?" she whispered back, ignoring her glasses.  He closed his eyes now, too.  “What are you apologizing for, Oliver?”

He took a deep breath.  "For scaring you, for not protecting you from myself."  He felt her hand cover his on her face.  He didn't need to look to know her eyes were still closed, too.  Somehow, this was easier.  Somehow, touching but not facing the other’s gaze was easier.

"You were high, and not by choice."  She blew out a long breath against his face.  "I know you hate to hear this, but you can’t always do the perfect thing, you can’t always be the perfect hero for every person alive all at the same time; you are a human.”  He felt her smile under his hand.   “You did scare me, and yes, you were not able to stop yourself completely that night, but…I already forgave you for that, Oliver."  There was more that she wasn’t saying.

He swallowed slowly.  "What, what have you not forgiven me for?"

She pulled back and they both opened their eyes.  Her hand left his and his fell away from her face.  Oliver noticed peripherally that the entire club floor was now empty of workers.  He sent a silent thanks to Diggle, knowing he had cleared everyone away.

He watched Felicity watch him.  She took a sip of her drink.

"I haven't forgiven you for...making me kiss you back," she whispered so gently he almost thought he had imagined her words.  

He sighed and nodded sadly.  But she wasn't done.  

"I haven't forgiven you for wanting me; for wanting me but not doing anything until you were out of your thick mind.  Or for making me wet for you or--."  She was starting to talk faster and faster, her usual babbling leaning more toward hysterics.  He wanted to hold her but that was part of the problem, wasn’t it?!

"I'm so sorry, Felicity," he pleaded.  “You have no idea how sorry I am.”  He felt completely inadequate, completely at a loss for how to fix this!  He was never good at this shit, and his lost five years only made him worse.  This was more painful than he had thought it would be.  

He couldn’t stop himself.  He stood and stepped to her, placing his hands on her shoulders and squeezing gently.  She gasped, whimpered, and just stared into her lap.  "Please, Felicity,” he said suddenly, not even knowing what he meant.

"Why?" she suddenly looked up at him.  She was starting to cry and it was breaking his soul apart.  That he was the cause of her grief.  “Why should I forgive you for those things you did Friday night?”  She shoved his chest and got off her stool.  “Why should I forgive you for kissing me, when all I’ve been thinking about more and more lately is how much _I_ _want_ to kiss you?!”

He moved to touch her again and she spun away from him.  “Why should I forgive you when it was my own body that reacted, even when my brain knew you weren’t in control of your faculties?!”  She was pacing along the bar area now and she tapped each stool as she passed it, almost punched them, really.  Oliver was even more confused now.

“So, wait.  Are you mad at me, or, not mad, or…I… _what_?”  He frowned.

“Of course I am mad, what the hell, Oliver?!”  She tossed her hands up.

“Then why aren’t you getting mad AT ME?” he growled loudly at her.

“Because I am more madder at myself than—umm, wait…”  She stopped talking and scrunched up her face as she replayed her last sentence.

Oliver sucked in his lips to contain his smile and laugh.  “More madder?” he finally said.

“You know what I meant!”  She crossed her arms and glared.

“No, no I really have no clue this time, Felicity” he declared honestly.

They stood only a couple feet apart and yet Oliver felt miles away from her.  Both of them were breathing hard and tensing their muscles.  He waited.

“Fine.”  She quickly stepped into him and tipped her head to look at his face instead of his chest.  “I am mad at myself because I liked it.  And I am mad at you for keeping it from happening until that night,” she was breathing out each word.  “AND, I am mad that when it did finally happen, you didn’t even remember it.”  She sighed and moved away again.  “Yes, I know your rationale for not pursuing something more than friends.  Honest, I get why you think that way.”

Oliver saw her bite her trembling lower lip before she continued.  “I just wish nothing had happened, because now I KNOW, I know because _I_ CAN remember.  And let me tell you, sir, it was great.”  She barked out a laugh and he cringed at the bitterness it was coated in.  “Every one of your stupid little excuses?”  She flung her arms.  “WOOSH!  Into the land of bullshit.  Yup.”

Oliver glanced at her drink for the first time, but it was only a quarter down.  Had she managed to suck down more glasses while he and Diggle had been watching the video?  And she was talking again—

“…soft, and warm, and we just fit together, like, really well.”  She was waving her hands wildly again.  “Big time.  Just, like we, well, it felt like we had kissed a million times before because it was so comfortable!  Every place we touched got super heated and you smelled so good and felt—.”

Oliver silenced her in the most effective way he had.  He kissed her.  He slipped his hands over her face and onto the back of her neck and shoulders and just pulled her into his body.  She grunted in surprise.  He moved his hands to her waist and guided her back to the bar that she had paced away from.  He nipped at her lower lip and slid his tongue in to caress hers.

“Awwwohhh,” she moaned loudly and she pulled his head to deepen the kiss.  Her bright nails curved over his ears and into his hair.  Was this what she was talking about?  How could he have not remembered this?

Oliver easily lifted her up onto the bar top and grinned at her.  “Oli—.”

He kissed her again and pulled back, shaking his head.  “Shhh, just, quiet. Please?”  She snapped her mouth close and nodded.  Oliver sighed and smiled and hugged her around her waist as he rested his head on her shoulder.

They were frozen for a few wonderful moments.  Just holding the other, listening to their breathing slow and start to synch.  Oliver had never experienced such an intense and immediate connection before.  Was this what had gotten Felicity all flustered and upset?  Had she figured this all out and been suffering while he was an arrogant, selfish fool, blinded by ego and self-righteousness?

“Damnit, Felicity,” he growled playfully into her neck.  “You should have told me.”

She did her own growl and pinched his arm, hard.  “Shut up and do that again.”

“Do what again?” he asked.

“Kiss me, like you want to remember it forever.”  He smirked at her.  “Too corny?” she asked.  He raised his eyebrows.  “Ok.  Then just kiss me like Oliver Queen: a CEO; a hero; a SOBER, clueless, and lucky man.”

“You think awfully high of yourself, it seems,” he chuckled.  He pulled her to the edge of the bar so that her knees had to open and hold his torso between them.

She rubbed her hands over his arms, and shoulders, and onto his chest, feeling his muscles twitch under his shirt.  She cradled his scruffy jaw, before leaning in to whisper on his lips, “Well, you DID just place me UP on this high countertop.  Just saying…it does make one think of a pedestal…”

He kissed her again but it was slow and gentle this time.  When he pulled back and looked at her, she smiled shyly.

“So,” he cleared his throat.  “So, um, how…”  He finally just stopped and sighed, a small grin playing on his lips.

Felicity shrugged.  “I can’t have all the answers.  This certainly wasn’t what I was picturing when I woke up this morning.”

“Yeah.”  They stared at each other.  “Great,” he laughed.  “But, so, are we ok, about Friday?”

She chewed on her lip.  “If I say yes, will you cease the kissing, or increase it?”

He mimicked her and chewed on his bottom lip.  “If you say ‘yes, we are ok regarding Friday,’ then I will ask you out to dinner.”

She tipped her head.  “Just like that, huh?”  He looked at her, confused, again.  “You get high, embarrass the whole team, finally kiss me, but have no memory of any of it…and NOW Oliver Queen can take Felicity Smoak out on a date?”  She sighed and caressed his neck where her hands were resting.  “I guess I didn’t realize Friday’s events had altered so much in our lives so quickly.”

He closed his eyes and concentrated.  She wasn’t trying to make this difficult; it was just all shitty and confusing and he had to stay level about it all.  “You’re right, again, of course.”  He opened his eyes.  He smiled shyly and she smiled back.  “I should not use that as an excuse to suddenly make a decision for us both.”

He lifted her down, waiting until she was steady on her own feet before dropping his hands to hold hers.  “Felicity Smoak,” he said solemnly though his lips twitched.  “What do YOU want next?”

“She wants you to stop being a prick and just show how you feel and stop driving us ALL nuts, dude,” Roy not so quietly mumbled as he carried another box through the bar.  “Isn’t that what every girl wants?”

Oliver glowered at Roy’s retreating figure.  Felicity burst out laughing.  “Uh, well, sort of that, I guess, yeah.”

“Sorry, the kid is sneaky,” Diggle said as he approached them.  “And, Thea just got here and is pissed that we are keeping them from working.”  He looked at his friends.  “So?  Anything settled yet?”  He glanced down at their clasped hands.

“Felicity?” Oliver asked gently and with genuine concern.

“Some.”  She gave his hands a squeeze before letting go.  She turned, grabbed her drink, gulped it down in three swallows, and sighed.  “Enough that I’m not mad or anything about The Friday Incident any longer.”

“‘The Friday Incident’?” smiled Diggle.  “I like it.”

“Felicity, I don’t want to just forget.  I know how pushing things aside, burying them, ignoring them, can cause worse harm in the long run.”  Oliver searched her face.  “I can’t, I WON’T let that happen to you, to us.”  Right now, it was the only thing he was certain of.

“I know.  But this was a crazy weekend.  Let’s just let normalcy return; I, for one, am still feeling a little of my epic hangover.”  And she narrowed her eyes as Diggle and Oliver both looked to her empty glass.  “And yes, that was more alcohol I just pounded back.  But it was mostly cranberry juice, so it was medicinal.”

Diggle gave a huff of laughter and shook his head.  Oliver smiled and pulled her into a tight hug.  She wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head on his chest.  He kissed the top of her head.

“Oh, good lord, FINALLY!” announced Thea as she marched into the room.  She whacked her clipboard onto the bar top and Felicity jumped away from Oliver in surprise.  “Now, unless all three of you are offering to cut lemons, stack glasses or replace light bulbs, I suggest you get the hell out of my bar.”

Felicity and Diggle quickly retreated toward the hall.  “Speedy,” he frowned.  “This isn’t your—.”

She frowned severely up at Oliver.  “Really?  You really want to—.”

He held up his hands.  “NO, no, Thea.”  He smiled.  “You’re right.  You are doing great, sorry we got in your way.”  She nodded and he joined his team in the hallway.

“So,” Felicity grinned as they walked toward the arrowcave door.  “You guys didn’t eat all the doughnuts while watching The Friday Incident instant replay, did you?”

Oliver wanted to be able to smile and joke, but that wasn’t his nature these days.  That was, he was now admitting to himself, one reason that he valued and needed Felicity in his life.

“Naw,” Diggle shrugged.  “We only ate the cream filled.”

“Nooooo!” moaned Felicity, clutching at Diggle’s arm.  “You bastards!”  They both laughed as she entered her code and opened the door.  She looked back and held open the door for Oliver.

He smiled and as he passed her, he gave her a quick peck on the lips, and whispered, “Don’t worry, I hid one from him.”  And he winked.

 

 

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kind of like this as a wrap up. I guess I could continue, but I might just have them as their own story and not chapters. I do have lots of ideas I'm working on. Again, thank you for being wonderful readers and commenters, commentators? Huh, whatever, the point is, every writer truly loves to hear from the readers. So thank you!


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